Bed of Roses
by souleswanderer
Summary: Part of The Colour of a Rose Series, and set after The Doctor Dances. Come along for the ride -- watch as relationships bloom. Nine/Rose,Jack
1. Chapter 1

She lay awake staring upwards into the darkness, not really seeing anything but knowing if she closed her eyes the night would be over, and the last few hours would turn into nothing more than a pleasurable memory. Rose wasn't ready to let the events of the evening fade that easily into the past. Rolling onto her side she let the covers wrap tightly around her, proving to be a poor substitute for the warmth and security his arms had offered. Restlessly she turned onto her back again, sighing heavily and silently cursing the universe for revealing that the Doctor did indeed dance.

Now her thoughts were a frenzy of confused feelings and unfinished ideas. Did the Doctor feel the same way towards her or was she misreading his intentions? After all, he was an alien, a nine-hundred year old alien at that, even if he only appeared to be a few years older. And what if his species wasn't compatible, or that she was misinterpreting his ability to dance with her deeper implications of the horizontal tango?

Rose jerked and sat up quickly; throwing the sheets back and squinting against the dark while reassuring herself she wasn't dreaming. She closed her eyes, listening again for the faint music as her body leaned towards the source of the sound. Her hand slipped off the edge of the bed, forcing out the breath she'd been holding as her chest hit the mattress.

She swung her feet out from under the covers cringing as the rustling material threatened to drown the faint melody, and grabbed her dressing gown before hurrying out of the room towards the deep voice that was humming, an alluring siren to her already racing heart.

Trailing a hand lightly over the walls as she padded barefoot along the dimly lit corridor, she felt the subtle vibrations of the ship and became aware of the dark shadow stretching across the hallway ahead of her. Moving inside the kitchen doorway its long silhouette stretched thinly then widened again, but it wasn't the familiar shape of the man she was hoping to find. Hesitating just to the side of the door she listened quietly and froze when the humming abruptly stopped.

"No use hiding in the hallway, I know you're there," Jack called.

Sighing in resignation, Rose took a tentative step forward and peered around the corner into the brightly lit kitchen, blinking owlishly as her eyes slowly adjusted to the light. There stood Jack, leaning back against the counter, blue jean clad legs crossed above bare feet and his arms folded over a shirtless chest. Laughing, his boyish smile disarming he stepped forward and grasped her hand before she could pull back or object.

"C'mon girl," he coaxed her softly. "Plenty of tea for two, since neither of us is up for sleep," he added disarmingly with a slight wink and pushed her into a chair as he turned and began rummaging through the cupboards in search of mugs.

"Third over from the sink," Rose prompted after watching him jump backwards when he opened the cupboard containing the live herb garden. The plants tended to be overly cranky when rudely awakened, which was most of the time, and unless one was prepared to deal with them their sharp bite could take a year or two off of one's life span.

Mumbling something sounding like thanks, he slammed the door on the still hissing plants and quickly procured two mugs from the proper cupboard, setting them on the counter.

Rose couldn't help but admire the view before her, after all it wasn't every day that half dressed men went about their normal routines as casually as Jack did. Of course the few times she'd been around Jack she was sure he'd be just as comfortable in even less, and quickly averted her eyes as her imagination sought to finish the picture for her.

Pouring the tea Jack shot a quick glance over his shoulder and caught her admiring look. He turned to allow a profile shot and handed her one of the mugs. "Like what you see?" he asked offhandedly as Rose accepted the tea, her face flushing as she set the cup on the table afraid her trembling hands would spill the hot liquid. Jack slid smoothly into the chair across from her; both hands around his drink as he ducked his head down in an attempt to catch her eye.

Twisting the cup in her hand she refused to meet his gaze, remembering the look the Doctor had given him earlier. As if reading her mind Jack chuckled lightly. "Just a bit of playful flirting, Rose, I know where the boundaries are."

Dropping one hand to her lap she shook her head, letting her hair drop behind her shoulders and gave him a defiant look as her other hand played nervously with the handle. "Don't know what you're on about, Captain," she said meeting his gaze as steadily as she could.

Jack leaned forward on his elbows, managing to close the distance between him and Rose, until the table seemed rather small and insignificant. She tried not to shy away from his predatory advance, feeling the warmth of his breath against her face, sending shudders through her, but she resolutely held her ground. The hand in her lap twisted the edges of her gown into a tight clump of wrinkled material.

"You're unavailable, and only a fool would believe they could come between the two of you," he whispered seductively.

"So, this is all just—" she asked in a half-whispe,r aware that her voice was shaking as much as her hand.

"Consider this, as staking my own claim. You're a very beautiful woman, Rose Tyler. And you're both very, very fortunate to have each other. I only wish there were room for more." As Jack finished, Rose knew the warmth on her cheeks was no longer just from his breath.

Shaking her head Rose wanted to laugh, wanted to slap him, wanted to—no she wanted to kiss _him_, and feel _his_ breath on her face. She thought this, even as she sat looking at Jack, who leaned back triumphantly as if he'd just completed the biggest money making deal of his life. Curse the man for confusing her even more than she already was. Wanting them both wasn't right, or fair to either one, was it?

"He's not blind, nor stupid," Jack began offhandedly, watching her closely. "And it's not a game for either of us. You belong with the Doctor, and I don't have any problems with that. It may take a little time and patience. He's not like us." Rose nodded, biting her bottom lip as she kept her eyes lowered.

Jack stood abruptly; leaning close he caressed her cheek and whispered in her ear as he began walking towards the door. "Give him a chance, Rose."

Then Jack was gone and Rose was left staring into her cup of tea, wishing that life aboard the TARDIS wasn't so complicated.

Normally, Rose would have been content to be curled up on the large sofa, thumbing leisurely through one of the current entertainment gossip rags while the Doctor sat at his desk, reading a scientific journal, written in an alien language.

Normally, the two of them would have been sipping hot tea, sharing anecdotes and laughing at their latest close-call encounter with danger, and the subsequent harrowing escape that generally included running for ones life.

Normally, the lapses in conversation would be filled with comfortable silence; each lost in their own thoughts and sneaking the occasional glance at the other, catching a shy smile before quickly averting eyes.

Normally…

Rose sighed inwardly and winced as every small movement brought a sharp reminder of that afternoon's adventure. A furtive glance towards the Doctor confirmed her own suspicions; his brooding countenance mirroring his thoughts. He was in as much pain as she was, and still they both sat across from each other pretending everything was normal.

Normal had changed suddenly when Jack had joined them aboard the TARDIS. The Doctor was still the Doctor, and they still found themselves in unlikely situations while under the pretense of exploring new worlds, but there was a new tension in the air, and it seemed no one wanted to discuss it, or admit it existed. This wasn't normal.

Rose flipped another glossy page, looking at faces that seemed to mock her, daring her to break the silence. She closed the magazine and tossed it to the other end of the sofa, blinking back tears from the effort and rubbed her shoulder gently. She was tired of this pretending everything was normal, and if the Doctor was content with ignoring there was a problem, she'd bring it to light.

"It's not his fault."

The Doctor glanced up from his magazine, scanned the room quickly as if looking for a disembodied voice, and then continued with his reading. Not quite the response Rose had hoped for.

Ever so gingerly and with great effort she moved one leg off the sofa, then planted both hands firmly on the cushion and swung the rest of her body around, inhaling sharply as her body protested the movement, at least now she was facing the Doctor.

"Rose?"

She'd never heard him speak that softly before and raised her eyes, wondering when he had moved from his desk. He was now standing or rather squatting in front of her, his eyes, steel in color were searching hers and his clenched jaw was a sharp contrast to the tender touch of his hands on her arms, pulling her upwards to stand. Rose groaned as stiff muscles protested the sudden command to move and she found herself leaning hard into the Doctor.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked sympathetically, one arm encircling her waist and allowing her to lean against him for support. Rose chuckled at the irony.

"It didn't hurt this much earlier," she stifled another groan. "Must have been all that sitting around, everything is stiff now and I feel like I'm a hundred years old." Rose stopped suddenly and the Doctor let out a short laugh.

"I won't take it personally. But you should have let me know you were feeling this sore," he chastised her lightly, bending over and scooping her into his arms.

Rose sank gratefully into his embrace as he strode along the corridor.

"Figured you were feeling the same," she mumbled into his jumper, not caring that it was a bit scratchy against her skin.

He hmphed, turned down another hallway, and continued walking right past her door. "Time Lord, me. Faster recovery than you humans, takes a lot more than a tumble down a dry, mud-packed hill to slow me down, even if I am older than a hundred."

"You missed my room," she reminded him.

"Yep. Wasn't going there," he stated, refusing to say another word about their destination.

"And when I get my hands on that Captain—"

"I told you, don't blame him. Wasn't his fault, I should have listened to you and not gone off to follow him. 'M sorry."

"Stop it. You have no need to apologize," his voice was final.

They stopped outside a room unfamiliar to Rose, and the Doctor turned sideways as he passed through the door, keeping her back to the room. Rose could see thick, dark green foliage at the edge of the doorway and she was suddenly reminded of stepping into a greenhouse. The air was denser and a hush had settled around them. It was the type of spot one found, in the midst of a large park during the summer, when seeking to escape the heat and enjoy the cool shade and quiet solitude offered.

The sound of trickling water could be heard getting closer, and Rose found it hard to pull her head away from the Doctor's chest, the steady rhythm of his hearts a calming lullaby. They were now below a canopy of leaves, most of them larger than anything Rose was familiar with, and the crisp scent of the remains of a rainstorm having passed through added to the surreal environment.

"This a secret?" Rose asked, now standing beside the Doctor at the edge of a small pool.

"Not anymore," he said removing his leather jacket and laying it on a stone bench that seemed made just for that purpose.

Rose had suddenly become preoccupied with trying not to watch the Doctor as he squatted down to untie his boots, her mind racing with possibilities. Still, her eyes were drawn to the musculature outline beneath the clothing, that deceptively hid the strength his body possessed.

Rose had quite forgotten about her own stiff and sore body while watching the Doctor casually undress in front of her, and her mind was now a jumble of short-circuited thoughts. He looked up questioningly, fingers still working on the laces.

"Well?"

Rose swallowed hard, averting her gaze towards the water unable to make a coherent thought at the moment, let alone be able to force any words out of her mouth.

"There's a dressing room just past the bench," he offered, seemingly unaware that undressing in front of Rose wasn't anything other than normal. Rose simply nodded and turned towards the bench. How she had missed the curtained divider, hanging behind it in her earlier look over, well, it had been a long day.

She disappeared inside the cubicle; quickly pulling the curtain closed and leaned back heavily against the wall, finding the room stifling as she struggled to catch her breath. She bit her lip and pinched herself, just to be sure she wasn't dreaming, and sank down onto the low shelf with a heavy sigh.

The curtain fluttered, revealing the Doctor now pulling the black jumper over his head and easily tossing it towards the bench. Rose suddenly discovered her mouth had gone dry when he turned his back to her and both hands began working on his trousers.

She hurriedly adjusted the curtain, allowing him some privacy as her eyes scanned the tiny enclosure, noting the towel hanging by the entrance. She reached over to pull it off the hook, watching in amazement as a swimming suit dropped to the ground. She laid her hand on the wall next to her, closing her eyes and silently thanked the TARDIS, the gentle reverberation under her palm a reassuring comfort.

The Doctor appeared the picture of calm, floating on his back in the middle of the pool, his face relaxed and for once the lines that usually furrowed his brow were smooth. He could have been sleeping except for the fact his hands and feet were in motion, keeping him from sinking. Rose was keenly aware of the white swimming trunks he wore, and the way they clung suggestively to him.

She laid out the towel, spreading it wide next to the edge of the pool before lowering herself to the rock ledge, tentatively stretching a toe towards the rippling surface. The water was much warmer than she had expected and she let her foot slide just below the surface, leisurely circling her leg, watching the patterns of ripples spread outward. As she allowed her body to sink into the welcoming warmth, she was overwhelmed with relief and wished she had discovered this piece of paradise earlier. The sense of weightlessness coupled with the relaxing atmosphere immediately put her mind at ease and erased the day's troubles.

"Comfortable?" The voice sounded close, but she couldn't be bothered to open her eyes. Just a few more minutes, she promised herself.

"Rose?" She heard herself groan in disappointment at the insistent voice. Why wouldn't it let her be? Opening her eyes, she blinked, then blinked again and accepted the glass that was being offered her. A rose red liquid that smelled faintly of fruit tempter her, and she pulled herself up into a sitting position, very aware as she studiously watched the contents of the glass that the Doctor's eyes had wandered elsewhere, and she tried to control her voice.

"What's this?" She inhaled the sweet smell, tipping the glass just enough to catch a bit against her lip and then let her tongue wipe it off in a slow sweep, plenty aware that it was the Doctor who was now unable to turn away. "'S good." She took a proper drink, letting the cool liquid play over her tongue as she tried to determine the flavors she tasted.

"It's from my home." Rose had given him her full attention as he went on. The Doctor was turning the bottle over in his hands, a faraway look in his eyes as a myriad of colors played along its surface, changing as the different degrees of light hit it. "Similar somewhat to what you folks call cider, although we grew a variety of fruits that were added to the mixture. Depending on the harvest, that would determine the quality and potency of the drink, and for which festival it would be used for."

"How was all that determined?" she asked, finishing her drink.

A mischievous grin crossed his face. "Taste testers," he quipped. Rose slapped his shoulder playfully.

"For real?"

The Doctor nodded. "I tried it one summer, taste testing. Terrible job, that." He quickly refilled her glass, setting the bottle back on the ledge and pushed himself away from the edge, while Rose tried to imagine the Doctor as a teenager with a summer job. "So many different flavors, some of them good, some of them not so good and then there were always the ones that weren't even fit to be consumed, turned out it was all a matter of politics more or less." Rose attempted to hide her giggling. "What?" he huffed.

Rose pointed at him, the glass shaking in her other hand from laughter. "Trying to imagine you, working."

"Oi. Nine hundred years old me, you don't think I've held a job or two?" he sounded a bit hurt as Rose wiped a tear from her eye, shaking her head.

"I just can't picture you as a shop girl, yeah?" she asked teasingly. The Doctor burst out laughing with her and they enjoyed the sound of their merriment in the quiet hideaway. Rose continued querying the Doctor on various jobs he'd held and for once he didn't seem reluctant to give her a glimpse into his past.

It wasn't until later and three more glasses of the homemade concoction that Rose became aware of no longer listening to what the Doctor said, his words no longer made any sense, but she didn't want him to stop. Oh no, because then those lips would stop moving, and she was imagining all the things those lips could be doing, not just content any longer to have them spilling out useless words.

The Doctor had paused in his oration sensing a change, but unable to put his finger on it, and began to watch Rose carefully, repeating his question. "You okay, Rose?"

Rose wasn't at all happy that the Doctor was no longer speaking and let the empty glass fall harmlessly into the water as she stood and started towards him. She could make out his outline, wavering above a kaleidoscope of colors dancing around him, shapes stretching and shifting with every movement. He wasn't going to get away.

The Doctor was backed against the far side of the pool, his brow creased in deep furrows as Rose continued her predatory advance, and he silently cursed himself for forgetting the possible effects the beverage would have on his companion.

"Rose? How many glasses did you drink? I'm thinking you may need a lie down?" the Doctor's voice cracked, raising a half octave as she pressed close to him, the heat of her body a few degrees warmer than the pool. He tried to push himself further into the rock barrier behind himself, arms stretched out to the sides, panic starting to set in. Rose leaned forward, their bodies pressing even closer together, three heartbeats out of sync, the Doctor closed his eyes. "Rose—" he pleaded.

"Sweetheart!" Jack's voice broke through the delirium, halting Rose as she turned to face the Captain. Jack was squatting next to the Doctor, leaning forward on the edge above with the towel she had laid out earlier now open wide in his arms.

"Time to go, Rose," Jack encouraged her quietly, offering his hand and lifting her out of the pool, quickly wrapping her in the towel then sliding an arm around her waist as he steered her towards the doorway. "You will definitely be thanking me in the morning," he spoke softly to Rose while directing a knowing look at the Doctor, who returned a slight nod.

The Doctor's knees gave way, relief flooding through him and he found himself fully submerged, letting the water wash over him wishing he could as easily remove events in his past. He was still reprimanding himself for his own stupidity as his two companions left.


	2. Chapter 2

When Jack returned the Doctor was still sulking, chin barely above the water and a far away look in his eyes. Jack stripped and let himself into the pool, sighing loudly in appreciation as the warmth worked its magic on his body.

"She's sleeping," Jack offered.

"What kind of life is this?"

Jack glanced over at the Doctor in surprise. Currently they were soaking in a warm mineral spa, not running for their lives or talking their way out of trouble, of course a native or two applying massage oil would up the pleasure a few notches, he mused. "Not following you, Doc."

"Rose deserves better than this."

Jack chuckled softly. "I think you'd find out differently if you asked Rose. And before you say she's too young, just remember, she's lived a quarter of her life already. You've introduced her to a whole new world; one most will never even realize exists. It's the life she's chosen." As he talked, Jack had retrieved the floating glass and filled both glasses with the dark liquid, handing one to the Doctor.

The two men sat in mutual silence for a bit, lost in their own thoughts. Jack refilled the glasses.

"Are you trying to get me drunk?" Jack laughed at the Doctor's assumption.

"On your own liquor? Hardly, just buying you that drink I promised."

"And what are your intentions, Captain?" the Doctor's voice no held any traces of playful flirtation.

"Hoping we can get to know each other a little better?" Jack asked hopefully, not wanting to give away too much.

"Not sure that's going to happen."

Jack studied his glass, tracing the rim with his finger. This was going to be harder than he thought.

"You give up on everyone so easy?" He dared a look at the other who seemed to be ignoring him. "Seems to me, I recall—you offered me a chance when my ship was about to explode."

"Moment of weakness," stated the Doctor neutrally.

"Or was it you can't say no to a certain blonde?" Jack felt the icy stare, realizing he was wandering towards unstable ground.

"Be careful where you tread," growled the Doctor, still smarting from his earlier mistake.

"Relax, Doc. I'm not here to ruin whatever it is between the two of you. But you can't tell me you're not lonely." He noted the slight flinch before the Doctor's mask of indifference fell back into place.

"I'm not lonely."

"You really should work on that," Jack grinned.

"What?"

"You're a lousy liar. First rule, tell a lie that's closest to the truth."

"What, like I'm not alone, I've got Rose?" the Doctor quipped.

"Right, see?" Jack leaned forward warming up to his topic. "There you've stretched the truth, by admitting you're not alone."

The Doctor looked at him evenly. "You're overlooking the fact that lonely and alone are two different words—"

"With separate meanings." Jack waved him off. "But it's the little misdirection that is misleading."

"Lie by misdirection?" The Doctor was watching Jack warily.

"Exactly."

"And you're an expert in that?" the Doctor's tone could have been accusatory rather than questioning, but Jack forged on.

"I've had enough experience with it," he admitted, waiting for the scathing tongue lashing he figured was coming.

He poured himself another drink and held the bottle out towards the Doctor. He took it deliberately, holding the Jack's gaze.

"So, are you lonely, Captain?" The Doctor's eyes never wavered. Jack felt he'd hit the ultimate lie detector.

"I've got you and Rose," he said finally, daring the Doctor to be the one to look away first.

"Not what I asked."

Jack leaned forward; sure the Doctor could see to the depths of his soul, and not caring.

"I've got you and Rose," he stated again. "I'm used to being alone, but with the two of you it feels—like family. Something I've missed, and I'm afraid of messing it up, like today." He finally broke the stare, certain that there were no secrets left that the Doctor hadn't already discovered. "You two would have gotten out of that mess a lot easier if I hadn't bungled up the escape route."

The Doctor rolled his eyes. "You were only trying to help."

"But what happens the next time I try to help, who's to say something won't happen? Something neither you nor I will be able to fix?"

The Doctor shrugged casually, as if dismissing Jack's question. "No need to worry about it now."

Jack was stunned with the man's lack of concern. "That's all I've done, is worry about it. And up until now, you were acting like I should have been thrown out into the void." The Doctor was now refusing to meet his eyes. "What changed?" he asked softly.

"You're being honest."

Jack frowned, and then leaned back, chuckling. "I don't get you."

"What's there to get?"

"I just gave you a lesson in lying, and now I'm forgiven for being honest?"

"Yep."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

They listened to the water lapping against the sides of the pool, and one could almost hear a quiet melody in the background; the TARDIS hum, broken by the thick foliage.

"What changed, Doc?"

"Maybe it's time for moving forward. Appreciate what I have, here and now. You'll both leave someday."

Jack nodded in understanding, knowing with unerring certainty the Doctor was right, they'd both experienced too much to think differently.

"You've got us now," Jack reminded him quietly as the Doctor finished his drink and stepped out of the pool.

"I'll see you in the morning, Jack."

Jack didn't fail to notice the Doctor had used his name and grinned at the retreating back.

"G'night, Doc."

It wouldn't go away. That small persistent voice she kept hearing. It didn't sound threatening, just wouldn't go away.

Rose rolled over pulling the covers with her and buried her head under the pillow, sure that would put an end to the annoyance. Wasn't it bad enough that there was a multitude of clocks continually ticking in her head, and behind those a constant low buzzing accompanying them? Soon her mum would be shouting over the harsh beeping of the alarm and she'd have to face the day, but for now, she only wanted a few more minutes to ignore the world.

"Rose."

The voice sounded vaguely familiar, and not at all like her mum's. This was a man's voice, a very nice sounding man's voice, deep and filled with emotion.

Rose's eyes sprang open and she silently prayed the TARDIS would let her sink into a black hole; anything to hide from the now known voice.

The night's events crashed over her, and she relived it all within a few seconds. She groaned in embarrassment, trying to sink further into the bed and mumbled a muffled go away. One could only hope he would follow directions for once.

"Rose?"

Maybe if she pretended she had fallen asleep again he would leave, and she could save herself from having to face him for another hour or day, if she got really lucky.

"How are you feeling?"

Rose squeezed her eyes tighter, unable to erase the memory, this wasn't really happening. She'd made a fool of herself, not that she hadn't been drunk before, but she couldn't recall a time she'd lost all inhibitions. Times like this, she wished the TARDIS had hidden her room in a far away corner.

She let out the breath she'd didn't realize she'd been holding, feeling the world right itself somewhat, and prepared to face the inevitable. Slowly she opened an eye. The room was still bathed in shadows, and the furniture didn't appear to be moving, the day was already improving. She pulled the covers down off her face, and looked over her shoulder at the source of the voice sitting on the edge of her bed, above the covers, and gave him a weak smile.

"Try this," he coaxed, holding out a glass and in his other hand, a tiny pill sitting in the middle of his palm. "It should help."

"Thanks," she said accepting the pill and quickly swallowing it with the water before flopping back onto the bed. She groaned as the headache flared momentarily, then gradually subsided.

"I'm sorry," they blurted out in unison, looked at each other somewhat startled, then both turned away. An awkward silence descended.

"I shouldn't have—"

"It was my fault—"

They both stopped again. The Doctor frustrated at his lack of being able to express himself started to stand, but Rose's hand on his arm gently pushed him back down.

"I didn't mean to be so forward," Rose offered. The Doctor shook his head and studied his hands, picking at an invisible spot on his jeans.

"I should have known better than to let you drink that much."

"You didn't force me to do anything," she sighed, only halfway listening to his attempt at an apology.

"It was stupid of me—"

"And me, getting all carried away and acting like an idiot by throwing myself at you. I can't even blame the alcohol." She felt her face grow warm as she confessed and let out a half-hearted laugh, then hurriedly continued, before she lost her nerve. "I'll understand if you want to take me home," she finished quietly, and kept her eyes down not wanting to see the relief and agreement she knew would be seen in his expression.

"Do you want to go home?" he asked hesitantly. "I was sort of thinking—well guess it doesn't matter—"

Rose lifted her gaze, trying to read his face. Had she really heard him correctly? He didn't want her to go? Her heart pounded as she watched him age before her eyes. His shoulders slumped forward, the weight of his burdens crashing down upon him, his eyes seemed to dull, she became afraid if she breathed hard he'd suddenly turn to dust and crumble to nothing.

He blinked rapidly as she squeezed his arm, the feeling of solid mass beneath her palm suddenly taking on new meaning. She used that strength to pull herself upwards until she was sitting next to him, staring at his shoulder.

"I'd like to stay," she whispered. "But I thought, maybe you wouldn't want me to." She bit her lip, telling herself she wasn't going to cry if he told her to pack her bags.

When had everything changed from normal? Not that travelling with the Doctor had ever begun to fit into anything one would categorize as normal, but they'd gotten along well, _better_ than well, until Jack. Was she really jealous of having to share the Doctor? Before Jack, they'd been pretty much inseparable, unless you counted the tree lady, Jabe, but that was before…

Before she'd gotten to know the nine-hundred year old alien that travelled through time and space in a spaceship resembling an old blue Police Box, who had saved Earth and countless other planets innumerable times, had lost his entire race of people, and still tried to right the wrongs of the universe. That's what he did and who he was; a man who stood up and made decisions because no one else would.

_I could save the World but lose you._

His words echoed in her mind, and she finally understood what he'd been trying to tell her all along. Rose's heart thundered in her chest as she dropped her head against his shoulder, anticipating cool leather and instead finding the soft wool of his jumper.

"Your decision, Rose." The words spoken softly on warm breath were a challenge, a tentative question, and also a promise of so many things yet to come.

Rose slid her arms around the Doctor's neck, bringing her own lips to his before answering.

"Could I have this dance?"

The first kiss was a tentative brushing of noses, lips meeting hesitantly as if the other were fragile. Their warm breath created a shared barrier of moisture that Rose licked off her lips as the Doctor pulled back. His blue eyes darkened as he studied her face, dropping to watch her tongue, and Rose waited until he was looking into her own eyes again before drawing him close.

Rose closed her eyes as the Doctor's cooler lips pressed against hers, gently discovering, exploring, teasing and became aware that her imagination had been greatly lacking. The Doctor wasted no time in pushing Rose backwards until her head hit the pillow behind her, his control waning as he began an unrelenting assault on her mouth until she found herself growing light-headed from lack of oxygen. She pushed harder against his chest than intended and flinched when she saw a flicker of panic cross his face.

"Need to breathe, yeah?" she grinned reassuringly at him. His eyes were darker than she'd ever seen, just a hint of blue outlining the dark irises and suddenly she was falling into their depths.

He leaned forward, breaking eye contact and leaving Rose momentarily disoriented, but after a few deep breaths she relaxed once more under his ministrations. He used his elbows to support himself above her, letting his eyes drift over the figure below. The length of his body covered hers, his legs stretching out alongside hers. Where their hips touched, Rose could feel the heat radiating from him through the jeans and covers that separated their skin.

Rose was reeling, enjoying the sensations of his lips moving methodically along her jaw. He planted miniature kisses, lips and tongue combined in a slow trail across her neck, stopping at her pulse point where he let his tongue rest against her skin, measuring heartbeats before moving down towards her shoulder. His breath caressed the smooth skin and she cried out instinctively when he bit into her shoulder, quickly laving at the mark that would be left behind. He leaned back and studied the mark, his eyes canvassing her body yet again, determined to savor each moment, each kiss, as if he had all the Time in the Universe, and in many ways, he did.

Tired of playing the passive role, Rose moved her hands to the bottom edge of his jumper, slid them underneath and let her fingers learn the curves of his body. Muscles and tendons shivered under her touch as she let her hands roam freely, mapping his body and discovering which types of touch over certain areas elicited pleasant moans or more primal growls from the Time Lord.

The Doctor shifted his hips and scooted lower, his erection pressing firmly into her leg. Rose lost her concentration, focused now on the weight pushing against her thigh; barely registering the fact that her top had stretched to its limits, the material taut and sinking into the back of her neck as he continued kissing down her exposed chest.

Rose distracted him with fingernails dragging through his scalp and as he leaned his head back into the touch with a growl that sent a wave of heat through her stomach, she gently pried his fingers loose from the garment.

The Doctor raised himself onto one arm, refusing to take his eyes off of her as Rose quickly pulled the top over her head and tossed it to the side. She watched his reaction hesitantly, biting her lower lip as his eyes took in every detail. Rose began to fidget under his scrutiny, the waiting becoming uncomfortable as she started to think of herself as a specimen under his intense gaze.

She tugged insistently at the hem of his jumper, lifting it to his arms in an attempt to coax him into motion. She'd settle for anything besides this unmoving statue looming over her, it was unnerving. "Doctor," she spoke, in what she hoped was a sultry tone but sounded harsh even to her ears.

He flinched, blinked confusedly and let out a long exhale. Rose brought her hand to his cheek, feeling the hard contours of his face soften under her touch as his gaze travelled up to her neck, his fingers reaching out to gingerly probe the bite mark. Rose reached for his hand pulling it away and bringing his fingertips to her lips. As she kissed them she assured him "I'm fine." And a silent message was sent that confirmed how badly she wanted this, wanted him.

Then, to break the awkward moment, she sat up, captured his lips in another kiss, and grasped his jumper again. This time the Doctor eagerly complied as he impatiently yanked his arms out, fighting with the material and having to break the kiss momentarily. Cleared of the cumbersome clothing, he wrapped his arms around her as she fell backwards under his weight and reclaimed her lips as she flipped his top carelessly to the floor.

The contact of bare skin sent shivers racing through Rose's body, and she mewed in delight. The Doctor rolled to the side, keeping her close to him. Hands moved relentlessly over exposed skin, each reveling in the feel of the other. They were soon panting, stealing quick kisses, neither wanting to stop until finally, lying forehead to forehead, their seemingly random explorations of touch, slowed to soft caresses.

The Doctor placed his fingertips lightly against Rose's temple and Rose felt a sudden surge of panic, as she found herself standing at the edge of a cliff, buffeted by a relentless wind. Unable to resist, she was swept forward and then felt herself falling, hurtling downwards into an abyss. She inhaled sharply and closed her eyes against the darkness.

"Rose." The Doctor's voice remained calm and steady, a focal point she could concentrate on. "Look at me, Rose," he called softly, encouraging her until she opened her eyes and looked around, somehow finding herself standing in front of the Doctor, his hand extended to her and a look of pure wonderment on his face.

"Where are we?" she asked in a soft voice.

"In a place known only to us. Do you still want to come with me?" he invited, his eyes searching hers.

Rose smiled back, more than willing to follow him, to trust him with her body and her soul, and slid her hand into his. She lifted their hands up, still amazed at how well they fit and lifted her gaze to his face. The expression on the Doctor's face could only be described in one way; love. Her heart swelled to think she was responsible for that, and couldn't hold back the tears, tears of joy, acceptance and the utter sense of peace that came with finding one's soul mate.

Mornings, or what passed for the start of a new day's adventure aboard the TARDIS, had become a series of smaller routines for the Doctor and his companions.

Usually not requiring much, if any sleep, the Doctor could be found, reassembling some piece of faulty equipment, or tinkering around with the ship's programming while researching the many networks of the outerwebs, and generally keeping himself occupied until his companions were rested.

Since joining the crew, Jack had discovered Rose enjoyed her lie ins, and he had become accustomed to discussing repairs, navigation, or any other number of safe topics with the Doctor as they waited for the other member.

Rose was always the last to wander in, usually with a cup of hot tea in hand, eyes bright with wonder, an easy smile, and make-up and hair all neatly done, ready to begin another adventure.

This morning turned out completely different as Jack strode into the control room, hands thrust deep into his trouser pockets and whistling a cheery tune. He stood just inside the doorway and gaped, the last notes dying off with a low wolf whistle as he blinked, unsure whether to believe what his eyes were showing him.

The Doctor lifted his head and looked pointedly at Jack, breaking into a broad grin. "Morning, Jack."

"Is it?" Jack asked warily, noting they were still on a first name basis, so the liquor hadn't impaired his mental capabilities or memory from the previous evening, but it didn't explain this.

Rose was standing next to the Doctor and his hand covered hers as he continued showing her some of the more basic controls. Rose glanced over quickly, her face glowing and Jack surmised it wasn't from the newly bleached hair.

"You're redecorating?" Jack queried, taking in the blanket of multi-hued red rose petals covering the metal grill under his feet. The Doctor's face turned a slight shade of the darker petals as Rose piped up, elbowing him playfully almost causing him to choke on his next breath.

"It was the TARDIS," Rose commented, shrugging it off, but Jack noticed her biting her bottom lip, and couldn't let the golden opportunity escape.

"And you didn't want to crush the delicate petals, so you're going barefoot?" he pointed out.

The Doctor looked down at the floor and wiggled his bare toes. "Actually they feel quite nice, 'sides, where we're going you won't be needing shoes," he finished challengingly and straightened to his full height.

"Our coordinates are set, and we're about to land," Rose stated, turning her head quickly to gain confirmation from the Doctor who nodded in return. Together their hands pulled back on the handbrake and Jack, bursting with questions, fought the urge to laugh at the giddy wave of emotion, stealing over him as he watched. Instead, he reached for the nearest rail to brace himself for their usual landing.

The TARDIS hiccupped once, followed by a soft thwump and both Rose and the Doctor shared a high five and spontaneous hug, pleased at their joint piloting skills. They turned as one and raced to the door, the Doctor pulling Rose behind and disappeared outside.

Jack sighed heavily. Pleased that he could have contributed to the Doctor's and Rose's new relationship, he couldn't help but feel the all too familiar twinge of one left behind. He quickly unlaced his boots, slipped his socks off and thought the petals did feel nice under his feet, the floral scent easing a bit of his melancholy. No use feeling sorry for yourself, Jack, best go see what kind of trouble awaits just outside those doors, he chided himself.

He stepped out into a world of sand, surf and sun, and found the Doctor and Rose taking in the view. He swallowed the lump in his throat, as he watched them lean towards each other, the Doctor bent down to whisper in her ear, and Jack told himself he should be happy for them.

"You two are sooo sweet," he said when they both turned to look at him, hoping he'd been able to hide his feelings. There was a moment of awkward silence when Rose held out her other hand towards him, wiggling her fingers in an invitation. The Doctor's face gave nothing away and Jack shook his head warily, thinking Rose was only being nice.

"C'mon," she urged and Jack held his hands up.

"It's okay, Rose. You two go on ahead." He nodded towards the horizon, but didn't anticipate her quick movement and found himself pulled next to her, his hand tightly clasped in hers.

"Better with three, yeah?" she told him smiling, then turned to look at the Doctor who was watching her with open admiration.

The Doctor nodded, his eyes meeting Jack's as he quietly repeated her words. "Better with three."

If this was a dream, Jack was hoping he would never wake up. "Better with three," he agreed, squeezing Rose's hand. She laughed and broke out into a run towards the water, pulling the two men along beside her, both grinning like maniacs.

The TARDIS sat alone on the small dune of sand, rose petals drifting out of the open doorway in twisting eddies, and scattered around the blue box that hummed contentedly. If one listened closely there could be distinguished a slight rhythmic undertone; bet-ter with three.

The End


End file.
